


I Feel Good Enough

by babydollbucky



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is a hero, Bucky and a kid, Implied Bottom Bucky, M/M, Prosthetics, Soft Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 07:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18138980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babydollbucky/pseuds/babydollbucky
Summary: BBF Prompt #96:A little girl with a prosthetic softly going, "Buckyyyyyyyy," and Bucky turning into a puddle of goo.    Bucky being adorable with his baby fans because representation matters.I hope this fic scratches the itch :)





	I Feel Good Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblu/gifts).



> Title from Evanescence's "Good Enough"

“Meet and Greet the Avengers” was a relatively new development amongst the usual press conferences, interviews and photoshoots. It had been Wanda’s idea--a little boy had stopped her on the street and asked for a picture with his favorite hero, and she hadn’t been able to say no. The suggestion was made to Pepper, who thought it was a great idea, since they could always use good PR. 

So, here they all were, each Avenger in their suits and lined up to await their (hopefully) adoring fans. There was always the chance that some nut job would come to rant and rave about the mistakes the team had made, but Tony’s security, bolstered by some Wakandan tech, was very formidable. FRIDAY would alert them of any malicious or dangerous activity. 

Bucky had wanted to decline the function, but was strong-armed into it by nearly everyone. His argument was that no one wanted to meet an ex-assassin, no matter that he’d been cleared long ago. Natasha and Clint had shot that down. Wanda, too, had spoken up, too, saying that if she could redeem herself after having chosen to join Hydra, so could Bucky, who had been forced.

He wasn't so sure. When he'd officially become an Avenger, there had been some protest. He tried not to let it bother him--these people didn't know the whole story, and they were being asked to trust him to protect them. He could understand being apprehensive. 

The night before, Steve had pulled him to sit next to him on their couch and said, “You know you don't have to do this. If you're not ready, we can--”

“Steve, it's fine. I want to do it, I'm just...anxious, I guess. But hey, maybe it will be fun,” Bucky responded after interrupting Steve. What he really wanted was to see how Steve handled being fawned over. If he was anything like he was in 1943, it would be extremely entertaining because Steve couldn't take a compliment for anything. 

Still, the thought of it going wrong lingered in the back of his mind. He didn't sleep much, so instead, he made the terrible decision to google himself. 

Countless photos, videos, and articles about him, all there for him to peruse. Most of the articles talked about him in relation to Steve-- how it must have felt to find his best friend again, how awful the realization of what he was most have been. How hard it must be to live with him now, knowing what he'd done. 

Some of the other media were of their fight in D.C. on the highway. Most were from his trial. Some were of him as an Avenger. 

Then, he found a video of something he never expected to see. The thumbnail was a smiling girl, maybe seven years old. Her brown eyes were open wide despite the gap toothed grin on her face. The title was My Favorite Avenger. 

Why would that come up when he googled his own name? He had no answer. 

He didn't watch it. He was already keyed up. He shouldn't have done this, he knew it was a bad idea.

Eventually, he put on a Disney movie (Bambi), and fell asleep on the couch.

But the day was here, he was in his blue vest and tac pants (only one knife, hidden well, was on his person), waiting for the crowd to be let in. 

Tony had clapped him on the shoulder as he passed by, looking sympathetic. He winked and threw a lopsided smile at Bucky, which he answered with a single nod. 

He felt a gentle pressure on his left hand, and as he lifted it, a slight resistance making it slower than normal. It was Wanda who'd grabbed his hand and entwined her fingers in his. 

“I know this… isn't what you want to be doing on a Saturday, but I think it will go well. I have a feeling you'll be pleasantly surprised,” she said with a sheepish grin. She squeezed his hand, knowing he could feel the pressure. 

He tried to put on a smile, he really did. But it just wasn't in him. He had to save his energy for anyone who chose to come meet him (which was extremely unlikely, in his expert opinion). He didn't want his resting bitch face (Shuri's words) to scare anyone more than he was sure he already did. 

People were here to meet their heroes and have a good time. He wanted to facilitate that, as best he could, whether or not he was actively involved. Especially for the little ones. 

Pepper gave them a five minute warning, and Steve came over to Bucky for a last minute pep talk. He took Bucky's face between his palms and kissed his forehead before pulling him into a hug. 

“I'm really proud of you, Buck.”

The dark haired man snorted. “Haven't done anything yet.” 

Steve kissed him. “You're here. That's a big thing by itself.” 

“Sap,” he muttered with a playful roll of his eyes. “Thanks Stevie. I owe you, y’know,” he said, tucking his head under Steve's chin. 

“Alright, guys, let's knock ‘em dead,” said Tony. 

“Here we go. If you have to tap out, do it, ok? Don't feel bad,” Steve said, pulling back and looking Bucky in the eye. “And you don't owe me anything. Not a thing, Buck.” The stern set of his brows left no room for argument, along with the minimal time left until this thing started. But Bucky intended to pick up that thread at a later date, because Steve was very, very, wrong.

“I know, I will. Go on, you have people waiting to meet Captain America.” He leaned up to give Steve a kiss, and then winked at him. He turned on his heel and walked to his desk, complete with sharpies of various colors and official headshots of the White Wolf. 

Bizarre. 

Steve had done this sort of thing back when he'd been a USO boy. 

Him, not so much. 

Pepper's voice sounded over the PA system and counted down. 

“Five...four...three...two…one.”

Bucky sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly as the doors opened, and about fifty people were let in. 

It was fine. Nothing terrible happened, no one screamed at him, or attacked him, or anything. It was very quiet, except for the few fangirls squealing over Tony, and the couple of people trying to hit on Steve. 

One guy tried to kiss Wanda, but that didn't end well for him. No one stood up from their seats, knowing the young woman could handle herself. 

Ten minutes before the scheduled end of the event, three people were left. Two women who appeared to be a couple were speaking with Natasha, and a boy who looked to be around fifteen was talking to Clint. 

Bucky sighed and made to clean up his desk. He tapped the small stack of photographs of him (weird weird weird) on the desk to even them out. He capped the markers, and pushed his chair in. 

The door creaked open, and Tony started to speak, but a tiny girl stepped through, looking around frantically. She seemed to find what she was looking for, because then she was running at full speed towards Bucky--as full speed as she could, with two prosthetic legs. That was pretty damn fast. 

Bucky braced himself, and caught her as she leapt at him, nearly sobbing his name. 

“Buckyyyy!” she wept into his tac jacket as he held her, and when he gently set her on the ground, she wobbled and held onto him. “Bucky!!!” 

He stood there, jaw to the floor, as the little girl clung to him. He looked up and found Steve, who watched him like a hawk, ready to intervene if needed. 

The girl had gone quiet, and when Bucky's head leaned down to look at the girl, he was shocked to find her enormous green eyes were locked on him, even swimming with tears. She then broke out into a huge grin. “Bucky!” she yelled again, and snuggled her face into his stomach. 

Oh god, that's cute. 

He couldn't help it--he knelt down and hugged her. Let her throw her arms around his neck. Let her bury her face in his chest. 

“Bucky my favorite! Bucky like me!” her little squeaky voice made him think she couldn't be older than three years old. She was a baby. 

And he was her favorite. Because they were alike. 

He almost whined at how sweet that was. 

“Hey, Sweetheart, what's your name?” he said in a soft voice, feeling the gentle smile take shape on his face. 

She beamed up at him and answered shyly, “Athena.”

“The Goddess, right? How old are you?” 

Athena held out three fingers. Bucky wanted to scoop her up and hug her again, but he was aware that a parental figure was watching them, and he had no desire to make anyone uncomfortable. 

“Did you really come all the way here to see me?”

“Mmhmm! My favorite ‘Venger.” 

He was really touched. He hadn't ever expected to be anyone's favorite anything, except Steve's. For this little one to be so happy to meet him warmed something inside him that he hadn't realized was still frozen. He wished he could tell this child what it meant to him that she was there, yelling and hugging him without fear, explain how human it made him feel. 

“Well, thank you so much! It's an honor to meet you, Athena,” is what he settled on. 

The man that had been watching over Athena came closer, radiating calm and friendliness. Bucky nodded to him, hoping that the man could tell how appreciative he was of his and his daughter's kindness. 

“Athena, didn't you want to ask Bucky for something?” the man nudged. 

The tiny girl blushed and clasped her hands together. “Picture please?” she asked. “Picture with you?” 

He almost made to grab at his chest like an old woman clutching her pearls, he was so endeared to her. Her little voice, prominent cheeks, and tentative smile made him weak. 

“I-yeah, sure, of course!” The father readied his phone and Bucky smiled for the photo. He didn't even need to try; it was genuine. 

Athena piped up again, “Arm? Please?” 

He wasn't sure what she was asking, but the man explained. “You can say no, we understand. But can we get a picture showing off the prosthetics?” 

“Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's more than ok. Here,” Bucky responded. He stuck his arm out in a Rosie the Riveter pose, and gestured to Athena, who sat stretching her metal legs out in front of her. She mirrored his pose, and the photo was taken. 

A thought popped into Bucky's head. He wanted to ask something, but he hesitated. After a moment, he decided to go for it. 

“Do you think...I could have a copy of that picture?” 

Yes, of course! I'll send it to the official email? Does that work?” the father answered with an air of understanding. Athena hopped up and down excitedly. 

“Bucky picture! Bucky picture!” 

“I-- thank you. Really, thank you so much,” Bucky started. But the girl's father cut him off with a shake of his head. 

“No, thank you. You have no idea what it has done for her to see you out there. What it's done for my family. All of you, the world owes you a thousand times over. But you, Mr. Barnes, are extraordinary. Thank you,” he said with undeniable sincerity. 

Bucky could only let his smile speak for him. He felt a tugging on his pants, and found Athena hugging his legs. He laid his right hand on her head of soft black hair. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” her tiny voice rang out. 

“You're welcome, Sweetheart. Can I tell you a secret?” When the girl nodded enthusiastically, he continued discussing, “You're my hero, Athena.” 

She giggled gleefully, and hugged him again. 

He watched the father and daughter leave with matching grins, and stood in place for a while. He wasn't aware that he'd stayed glued to his spot until Steve was in his line of vision. 

“Buck? You ok, honey?” the blond man asked carefully. 

“Yeah, I'm great,” Bucket said truthfully, a little confused as to why Steve would ask him that. Didn't he see the smile on his face?

“You're crying, Buck,” he said as one hand came up to softly brush crystalline tears away from sharp cheekbones. 

“What?” He felt his own face and sure enough, his hand came away damp. “I don't… why am I…?” 

“It's ok, you can cry. I was just worried. But you're happy, right?” 

Lost for words, Bucky leaned into Steve's broad chest as he had done earlier, and as he'd let Athena do to him. 

*

Later that night, FRIDAY told them that an email had come through with two photos attached. Bucky opened the email and found his own face, nearly unrecognizable, looking back at him, accompanied by a smiling girl. 

He looked… happy. Healthy. Whole. 

Calling for Steve, Bucky sent both photos--one of Athena and himself from the torso up, the other of them with their prosthetics front and center-- to the printer. 

He would keep these close, these pictures of unabashed joy. The next time he had a bad day, he would look at them and remember why he got up each morning. He would remember the little girl who told him he was her favorite hero, because he was like her, proving that she could be a hero too. He would remember his own hero; the child who had hugged him fearlessly and made him cry with happiness. 

Having seen the photos, Steve only kissed him and said, “You've always been my hero, Bucky. Of course you're someone else's too.”


End file.
